


Communion

by smilejollyroger



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood, Bondage, Cannibalism, Choking, Consentacles, Edging, Gore, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Praise Kink, Soft gore???, Sounding, Tentacles, Teratophilia, blowjob, love me love my daemons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 13:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16517027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilejollyroger/pseuds/smilejollyroger
Summary: Ardyn gives Cor his blessing.





	Communion

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [doe eyes and lies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111289) by [jacktannerinhell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacktannerinhell/pseuds/jacktannerinhell), [noahfronsenburg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahfronsenburg/pseuds/noahfronsenburg). 



> I would like to thank @jonphaedrus and @jacktannerinhell for inspiring us with Doe Eyes and letting us play in their sandbox. Though it’s been over a year, we hope this story does them justice. 
> 
> I would also like to thank Jiiuu, without whom this fic would not exist.

It is a fledgling bond that quavers between them - a portion of his soul cleaved from him into Cor yet to be fixed in place. Ardyn works free the buttons holding his shirt closed, removes his glamor as he does, and Cor watches unblinking the map of scars revealed.

They are not in Insomnia. There lies madness and the wreckage of a previous age. Ardyn’s knight had been sworn to another; he will not sully their bond with reminders.

Even now, as he reclines into the cushions propped up against the headboard, he can see the cogs of Cor’s mind turning back, back, back towards how he had partaken in this communion in a time long past - _the bread salty-sweet, soaked in a plastic dish Prince Regi - no, Reggie - bled his hand upon. Clarus toasted him right before they partook, and Cid’s eyes were bright in the campfire light_ \- and how he had overseen it afterwards.  _The blood was thin. Diluted. Niflheim’s army was growing too strong, too bold. They needed more to bolster their own number. King Regis could give no more, but these men and women… By the Six, they could do so much with so little._

Ardyn is not so idealistic as to believe he has a direct link to Cor’s brain. These are all anecdotes murmured into his ear at his behest in the very same bed he lays in now, on nights when the daemons scream too loud.

And he also knows how Cor is looking at him in a similar vein. Cor stares at the minute twitches in Ardyn’s hands fighting to remain relaxed upon the blanket, to not simply grab the cloth and cover his chest back up, among other small things (the tiny scars upon his wrists and the meat of his palms, made either Before, when he had been naïve, or After, when claws and teeth scratched at his skin).

They stand on opposite sides of a crevasse, a candle hovering on glass strings between them.

“The Starscourge… it’s done much to my body, you understand”, Ardyn starts, his voice barely above a whisper. Cor nods. “Though I still have the Crystal’s blessing, just taking my blood won’t be enough to cement our bond.” Another nod.

Ardyn raises his hand. Cor meets him halfway.

“Something more?”

Cor’s voice is pitched low, like his. The candle doesn’t jostle.

Ardyn’s answer comes out on a sigh, “My heart, Marshall. You have to eat my heart.”

Unadulterated shock had looked pretty hilarious on Cor’s face the first time he’d offered his heart, before it melted to something tender and quite awed. This series of expressions makes its reappearance on Cor’s face, before shifting between concern and determination. Cor removes his hand to summon his blade - only to have it snatched back.

“Not yet!” Cor stills. Only the vague thrumming along the glass threads give any indication of fear. Ardyn gentles his grip, rubbing circles into the tense muscles. “You’ll have to finish it. I - I know you can.” He takes a deep breath, smiles a wry smile, “While I’m dead, some daemons may try to escape. You’ll be the most interesting thing in this room, I’m afraid, so be careful.”

Cor’s hands loosen slowly beneath his own. “So… no weapons, then?”

“I can’t guarantee you won’t need your blade, Marshall, but try to play nice with them.” Ardyn huffs, turning his gaze to the ceiling. “Well?”

That’s Cor’s cue. His sword drops into his hand when he calls it, and it is easy to unsheathe it and hold it to the edge of the hollow in Ardyn’s chest. Even easier to just bear down upon it and watch black blood leak from where his blade breaks flesh. Ardyn shivers as Cor cuts deeper - he angles the blade to the side and carves until he’s got the upside-down ‘V’ a sizable flap to pull at. Cor’s hands leave inky handprints as he curls the fingers of his free hand (his other, gripping his blade, keeps Ardyn pinned to the bed) into the flap and tears _._

Ichor erupts from where he pulls and Ardyn chokes on his scream, fisting the sheets as his flesh is ripped away to reveal his gut - then he’s scrabbling at Cor’s arm, mixing red into the mess as Cor thrusts his hand up his ribcage, through the gore, and he can’t stop it, he feels Cor’s fingers _slip -_

And Cor grips Ardyn’s heart as carefully as he would a bar of wet soap before he pulls his arm back, the resulting squelch making his stomach roil and his dick impossibly hard as Ardyn spasms beneath him; he’s had to sit astride his king to prevent him from wriggling away, and feeling his pants soak where Ardyn’s dick twitches against his own drives even more blood to his loins than he ever knew he could.

He’s lightheaded. The glass has shattered, but he managed to bring the candle to his side. It’s soft. Warm. A gentle flame. He can’t drop it now.

He doesn’t notice the blood stopped dripping.

There’s something sharp curling near the corner of Cor’s mouth, and it pokes at his nose, jolting him out of his stupor. He tries to rub it away with the hilt of his blade, only to find his entire arm tied down to Ardyn’s unmoving chest. His legs too have been pinioned.

Tendrils. And they’re bulging, portions slitting open to reveal orange-yellow orbs that revolve to stare back at him.

He holds their gaze, breathing slow, testing the strength of his bonds. They don’t budge.

 _Play nice_ , Ardyn had said.

It’s only the hand holding Ardyn’s heart that remains free, but the heart has grown an eye too and he’s stuck in a match with its lidless gaze as the _claw_ drags along his lips; he feels the tip catch on a bit of dry skin and pull off - his lip doesn’t bleed - before an entire clawed hand settles on the side of his head and _crawls_ up towards his hair. There are more tendrils slithering up his thighs, sliding through the creases in his pants and further until they start rubbing their way into his waistband, under his shirt. Something nips him through the cloth and his breath hitches, and a multitude of whispers burst forth, giggles overlapping one over another over another as they echo from the cavity in Ardyn’s guts.

Cor’s pants rip as they are torn from his body the same moment he bends to bite a piece of heart-flesh, flavour bursting across his tongue as he chews drunkenly, every bit of Ardyn’s heart he consumes feeding the fire that sets his soul ablaze. The hand in his hair tightens its grip and he relishes the pull, the burn rising as he strains against the daemons, and he yelps through the sinew when teeth latch onto different parts of him in turn; his nipples, the nape of his neck, his dick, feels thin tendrils play with his slit before pushing in. There are more hands, more tendrils, a _tongue_ at his ass gleefully opening him up when he rocks back upon them.

He’s almost halfway through the heart when it starts growing tendrils of its own and climbs onto his face. His mouth, already open and panting, is forced wider by two thick vessels probing their way to the back of his throat, and _down, down, down_ further than a normal dick could ever go _._ Both his arms are tied behind his back now, and he hears his voice crack on a shout as the daemons fill his ass as well. It’s muffled as the heart pushes more of itself into his mouth, and then he’s _full_ and he’s _burning._

The daemons tempt him with release, but he can’t follow them.

Because Ardyn has returned.

And he sits up, uncaring of the viscera spilling out, and traces his thumb along the rim of Cor’s mouth stretched around the bulbous organ nestled inside. Cor gurgles as Ardyn taps it.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Marshall. It’s impolite.”

Cor snorts. The brain-mouth filter he had before was long gone. His neck cramps something awful, and he tries tossing his head, but the claws on his head curl against his scalp in warning and he stops. A susurrus of laughter; the daemons undulate within him, and he arches as they roll right over his prostate, the tendrils stuffing his dick keeping him on the edge. They do so again, the tendrils thrusting slowly in time.

Ardyn touches two fingers to the beating sinew of his heart and presses forward.

The flesh still feels springy and full of liquid, Ardyn observes to his surprise, as he slowly eases his heart down Cor’s throat. It must have developed its own rudimentary organs. He pokes it twice experimentally when Cor gags and giggles as the eye on the heart glares horribly back at him for interrupting its languid pace. _Aww, it has a mind of its own already_ , he thinks to himself.

He would have played a little longer with the tiny heart-creature, but Cor has been wheezing and keening for far too long in such an awkward position. How beautiful he looks now, with his back curved elegantly, trying not to lean back onto the larger tentacles pushing into his ass and his prick red and bulging with tendrils trying to drink whatever it dripped. Ardyn enjoys the musky taste (his creatures ultimately fed him with whatever they touched after all), but he lowers himself down to Cor’s prick anyway, eager to run his tongue along the veins.

The heart-creature bobs in astonishment as it watches its Master bend down, trilling in frustration when it could no longer see him past its new Host’s teeth. With a short mental command, Ardyn orders it to stay put until his next signal and it squirms, squeaking in shock as it slips just a bit further when Cor coughs instinctively. Both Cor and creature tremble as they try their best to obey the orders they were given, new veins sprouting from Cor’s mouth as the heart tries to anchor itself securely. Ardyn looks up and winks at them, sure that they can handle it just a few seconds more. He gently kisses the tip of Cor’s prick before bringing it to his mouth.

“Thank you so much for your patience, dear knight, I hope it wasn’t too long for you,” Ardyn whispers before humming slowly as he moves the large dripping girth past his soft palate and into his throat. He parts his legs and shudders as the daemons sink into his own ass and prick, tendrils anchoring him to Cor’s legs via the hole in his chest.

 _Four months from King Regis wasn’t long for me_ , Cor thinks, not caring if Ardyn could hear him. He tries to nod in reply as the tentacles’ rhythm starts again and the heart slowly detaches anchor after anchor on his lips.

The tentacles envelope and cushion both of them as they sink back into this moment of bliss, rolling against their prostates and through Ardyn’s urethra with every inch the heart slips towards Cor’s stomach. With their throats choked by their respective burdens they gasp and moan as the dams on their dicks slowly withdraw. The tentacles milk them for all their worth as Cor’s thrusts grow more intense, the daemons around him having loosened.

The rhythm grows faster, more erratic until the heart finally reaches its destination and stabs an artery, its first proper root into Cor’s body. They scream as they come together, shuddering when Cor’s semen rushes down Ardyn’s throat and his own disappears up into the translucent tentacles as they wring each other dry.

The heart glows contentedly within Cor’s stomach as he flops down onto Ardyn exhausted and boneless while its fellow daemons outside release him from his bonds. It produces a pair of arm-veins and wraps itself around Cor’s own heart while Cor steadies himself, cradling Ardyn’s face gently in his hands.

Their hearts start beating in unison as Cor brings Ardyn’s lips towards his own, and the newly-nested heart snuggles into the other, small roots weaving and twining as they seal the bond. 

**Author's Note:**

> She can’t say it’s the worst thing that’s happened to them (because there’ll always be something worse if she does), but she sucks in a deep breath at the sight of Cor and Altum walking slowly towards them. Under the lights of the streetlamps, they don’t seem injured; a good thing, really. 
> 
> After returning Cor’s wave, Monica gestures to the entrance of the power plant, where a group of men and women fussed over some dents and claw marks in the metal exterior. 
> 
> “Glad to see you safe, guys. I was getting worried. The daemons tried to fuck up the power plant last night. They weren’t high-level, but they kept coming. Managed to keep us all up.” 
> 
> Altum hums at this, turning to make his way towards the gathering, the slight jut of his hips covering up how he was actually favoring his left leg instead of simply walking slowly. Pretty well-hidden, if Monica hadn’t witnessed how Altum stumbled before he manages to catch Cor’s outstretched palm. 
> 
> And Cor was limping too. 
> 
> “Did you two… come across any daemons last night as well?”


End file.
